


Run For Your Life

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: BttF reference a go, Gen, and also heavy, and then i just made a thunderbirds reference, in a Back to the Future reference, oh shit this is getting dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10018415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I am so sorry I put a teenager through this





	

‘Go, get out Hazel!’ he hissed. I froze for a moment, and scarpered. I ran into John, who was immediately concerned.   
‘Did Lucy try and do something to you?’ he asked me, grabbing my arms as a gesture of safety, though it gave off a possessive vibe.   
‘Yeah, she began removing her sunglasses when George came in and fucking pinned her.’ I answered.   
‘Oh god, she didn’t.’ John cringed and sighed at once.  
‘Why, is that bad?’ I asked him this time.  
‘I’ll explain in a bit.’ John exclaimed, walking into the room I had been in.  
‘Lucy, I thought I told you to stay away!’ John yelled, causing Lucy to slightly flinch. That was strange, she had been so robotic and emotionless.  
‘Fuck you, John Lennon! I do what I want.’ She was very indignant.  
‘So now I know what your payment must be. You have to make her a scarf.’ John decreed.  
‘What?!’ both George and I exclaimed.  
‘Fine then, I can make a scarf.’ Lucy sneered.  
‘Not just any scarf, but one that protects the wearer. From the power infused within it, which will be yours, or at least some of it.’ John deduced.  
‘That’s easy enough to do.’ Lucy scoffed.  
‘You had better do it, or I’ll fucking murder you!’ John was getting worked up by now.  
‘You couldn’t hurt a fly; you pretend rebel who can’t even go a day without being sad for the violence that has happened. You couldn’t even make a mark lasting more than a few days.’ Lucy cursed.   
‘Try me. Just fucking try me.’ John growled, beginning to walk out of the door. ‘And you’d better fucking make the scarf; you piece of shit!’ he screamed as he slammed the door.  
‘A scarf?’ I asked quizzaciously, breaking the short silence.  
‘This isn’t the first time he asked for one. He’s the piece of shit.’ Lucy uttered lowly.   
‘Alright, let’s leave her to it.’ George lead me out of the room. After the door was shut, a brilliant glow emitted from the cracks, spreading blinding rainbow colours throughout the corridor. George and I shielded our eyes from the painful shards. Once the light had dimmed, George counted thirty seconds with his hand on the doorknob before opening it.  
‘I hope this is alright.’ Lucy said, holding a scarf made of wool, the same bright stripes as her stockings and long gloves. I noticed that she seemed less colourful, like the process had depleted her power.   
‘Wow, is this beautiful.’ I thanked her.   
‘Put it on, Hazel.’ George said, and I looped the scarf around my neck. It was quite warm, like it had just been ironed.  
‘Alright, on the count of three, lift your sunglasses, Lucy. One, two, three.’ George said, shielded his eyes and looking away. Lucy had completely removed the sunglasses that shielded her eyes, her eyes that matched the rainbow of her costume, shimmering and shifting around. She put them back on, and George looked back.   
‘Now I see. That would have been bad if I hadn’t had been wearing this.’ I said.  
‘Yeah, you would have been a complete mess of a shattered, pulverised mind or just a mess on the floor. It does many different things to different people.’ George explained.  
‘Thanks again, Lucy.’ I said.  
‘Don’t thank me.’ she said darkly. George took me out of the room.   
‘We’d better go. Lucy’s up to something.’ John said, heading towards the black cloister.   
‘Yeah, I don’t know about you but I want to see the sunlight again.’ I murmured. George nodded, and we began heading up the stairs.   
‘Not so fast.’ Lucy was somehow already at the top of the stairs, walking down. I blinked, but George and John weren’t surprised by that.   
‘Lucy, you’re really not helping at all.’ John groaned.   
‘You’re not the boss of me, particularly in my own domain.’ Lucy articulated with a sly smile upon her lips. ‘I’d say you want to leave, but I’m afraid you can’t do that.’ she smirked. Clapping her hands, the stairwell went completely dark.  
‘Fuck, that’s a very shitty thing to do, man!’ John complained. I stepped forward, seeing the bright golden aura around Lucy when she moved. That confirmed that she was not human, which I thought was true before anyway. I slowly steeped forward, aware that I could go tumbling down the stairs. Tenderly I put my foot on the next step, and the next. I was close to Lucy now, the aura of gold softy lighting the features of her face, eyes sparkling with happy hate. I prepared myself mentally, curling my hands into fists. Before I had a chance to stop myself from doing it, I had punched Lucy in the face, feeling the flesh and bone beneath the skin crumple as she fell. The lights came back on, and Lucy was down on the landing further below.   
‘You piece of shit!’ Lucy screeched, struggling to get up.  
‘Go, fucking get out!’ I shouted at John and George. They scrambled up the rest of the steps, and John paused at the top.   
‘Take this!’ he said, throwing down a Swiss army knife. I knew what he meant by this. John swung the door shut behind him, but I didn’t hear the sounds of footsteps running away. Lucy was screaming up the stairs, and I was sure she was going to tear me completely into tiny pieces. I flipped the knife part out, and prepared myself for a hard battle. Lucy was almost upon me and I breathed out. I slashed at Lucy blindly, feeling the warm spray of blood across me. I looked, and Lucy was howling from the gash across her right arm. Looking back at me, Lucy’s eyes narrowed in extreme hate. I didn’t get in a blow that time, with Lucy’s clawlike fingernails finding their way deep into the side of my torso, like bullets ripping into my flesh. I yelled in excruciating pain and flailed the hand with the knife in hopes to strike Lucy away. She thankfully released her talons- wait, talons? -but my hopes of slashing her again were dashed when she grabbed the knife out of my hand, and blindly stabbed at my face. I felt the sharp tip of the knife piercing down, down into my face, touching the cheekbone and ripping the flesh to the right, the outside of my face. I gritted my teeth and kicked out into the solid tissue of Lucy’s stomach. Lucy wanted to make noise, but she refused to give in to her desires. I then thwacked her in the forehead with mine, and grabbed back the knife.  
‘Don’t. You. Fucking. Touch. Me.’ I hissed. I felt the blood from my facial wound slide down my face like warm, metallic tears.   
‘Fucking hell I will touch you, you piece of crap!’ Lucy lunged for me, slicing her fingernails down my leg like a cat sharpening its claws on a scratching post. I yelled, and kicked Lucy in the face. She howled, and I scarpered back up the stairs into what I thought would be broad daylight but instead was darkness. I took one last look down the stairs to see an unmoving Lucy down on the steps in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. I shut the door, hearing it click, and I walked about two feet before I collapsed onto my knees, and I willingly fell forward onto my hands and let myself roll onto my back. I wanted to pass out again, then I wouldn’t feel the pain, but instead I lay there while two figures ran forward from the entrance of a graffitied alleyway. At first I thought I was going to get robbed, two muggers taking advantage of a collapsed girl with blood pouring out of multiple wounds. It wasn’t, with George and John over the top of me, bobbing down.   
‘Fucking hell, you look rough.’ John said in a slightly sarcastic voice.  
‘No shit.’ I groaned. ‘Fuck everything. Fuck everything.’ I muttered.  
‘Can you get up?’ he asked.   
‘If I could without help, I would be.’ I answered.   
‘Right. George, take that side.’   
I used the usable leg to propel myself skyward, with George and John as my crutches. I was tired and had crashed from adrenaline; I needed a proper rest, a dissociation sleep doesn’t do shit, I had been knocked out and I’d been travelling. They weren’t peaceful sleeps. Soon enough, we’d reached a hospital, where I gratefully collapsed onto a hospital bed and got some sleep.   
~To Be Continued~

**Author's Note:**

> *heavy breathing followed by a long sigh*


End file.
